


5436 miles

by theankletattoo



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Canon Related, Established Relationship, Harry Styles Misses Louis Tomlinson, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Stars, and is very much dramatic about it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:15:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27077896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theankletattoo/pseuds/theankletattoo
Summary: Louis always had more stars in his eyes.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 5
Kudos: 48





	5436 miles

**Author's Note:**

> a really short drabble i wrote because i was SAD and missed my partner.

Louis always had more stars in his eyes.

That is a strong statement considering how their ceiling has a total of forty nine stars, three moons, two planets the size of representative Jupiter in the solar system, and one with a ring that is supposed to be Saturn.

 _“Uranus has rings too,”_ a raspy voice crackles through the phone, a breathless giggle following. “ _Your anus_.”

His eyes flutter shut. He can still see the glow in the dark stickers stuck above him. 

Four rockets, one on Jupiter, one on a moon, one aimlessly suspended and the other wrapped around a comet.

Six comets. One of the six is their creation.

 _“We should make another comet. Forty eight stars are a tad excessive, innit?”_ Louis muses, the connection shit, his absence even shittier, the emotions curled up in his chest the shittiest.

“Forty nine,” he corrects, lips dry and cracked. He licks them, corner of his mouth stings.

His mouth tastes foul, it’s the dehydration. He tongues at the sting. He has a heat sore, skin dark around it.

He had one last month. It took him three lemons and three cups of sugar and honey to scrub it away.

 _“Forty nine, my mistake,”_ he amends. The admittance is bitter and it spreads across his tongue, coats his teeth in a layer of coarseness.

“Can we— we could take the ring from the lone Saturn and make another comet.” His heart rabbits away in his ears, in his stomach, the arch of his right foot. “Maybe when you get back,” he softly adds.

An afterthought, a P.S, an emoji after a text, shyness after a confession.

 _“Or we could always add a trail of stars to one of those moons,”_ he replies, words dragged out, rolling around in his mouth.

He can see the glint in his eyes even behind his closed lids. Everything about Louis is inked and etched into every fiber of his being.

He would’ve kissed him, words pouring from his mouth into Harry’s, only half his.

He snorts. “And make it seem like the moon has a buttplug? No, thanks.”

Even as he gripes about it, he knows they will end up doing just that. They’ll get more stickers and they will give the fucking _moon_ a fucking tail and Louis will call it a buttplug until they are six feet under and rolling in the grave.

They are not exactly fighting.

They are not but there is a barb to their words, the distance between him and Louis too vast, too wide for them to see the blood pouring out of the wounds, raw and red, singing with ache.

 _“Don’t discriminate. If the moon like it that way then it does. Stop scandalising it,”_ he scolds, voice brighter now, remnants of sleep worn off.

“How rude of me,” he slurs, each inhale deeper than the last, more even, lulling him to slumber.

 _“Get some sleep, love.”_ His voice turns caring, softly urging him.

He can imagine the press of his cold nose nudging his cheek, lips dragging across his face, _pink_.

“Mhmm, stay on the line,” he murmurs, pleading and his request a tender yellow, a healing bruise.

 _“Of course, darling. I love you,”_ he promises, the words blooming across his body, the hard lines of his face, the pudge of his tummy, the thin skin of his throat.

Even five thousand four hundred and thirty six miles away Louis has always managed to sink in his claws of love in the most tender places.

“I love you,” he promises back, not bothering to shield himself from the white hot bombs of love that burst in him.

Louis always had more stars in his eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> be kind to yourself. come say hi [here](http://wasteland-harry.tumblr.com)


End file.
